


Absolutely Not Drunk

by pantswarrior



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, M/M, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-03
Updated: 2012-07-03
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:00:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Edgeworth does not get 'drunk'. Therefore there must be a perfectly sane, sober explanation as to how Detective Gumshoe wound up in the bed with himself and Phoenix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolutely Not Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, fill for the kink meme. In this case, shortly after that hilarious sakura viewing picture was released, featuring an already-drunk Phoenix, Gumshoe chugging away on a bottle, and Edgeworth looking horrified, someone wanted to see some drunken threesome aftermath.

Simply stated, Miles Edgeworth did not get 'drunk'. At most, a bit 'tipsy', and that was always entirely by accident - a day where his attendance was required at an evening party, and the day had kept him too busy to eat properly, perhaps. But 'drunk'? That was something Miles did not do.

As a more general rule, Phoenix Wright did not drink. Miles knew that he was telling the absolute truth about being a complete lightweight, due to the rare occasions that they had a glass of wine with dinner. Seeing the way that single glass made Phoenix's eyes grow brighter and his laughter turn into something more like giggles, Miles was very much in support of his decision not to drink - or to drink very little if he did.

Unlike either of them, Gumshoe seemed to be a fairly seasoned drinker, and was not particularly shy about getting to the point where the best adjective for his state of mind was indeed 'drunk'. Surely the man was used to drinks of lesser quality than Miles preferred, given the sheer _volume_ of Miles's expensive red the detective could gulp down before his drunkenness became obvious. The first bottle would have been more than enough for Miles and Phoenix alone to share, with some left over; Gumshoe would have been through it in less than thirty seconds, Miles was certain, had he allowed it.

Miles did not get 'drunk'. Phoenix barely even drank. But with Gumshoe there egging them on, the fragrance of cherry blossoms on the mild breeze through the park, the first truly beautiful evening of the new spring, and the peace that came from Larry and Maya keeping an eye on Pearl and Missile and otherwise amusing themselves rather than bothering Phoenix and Miles...

Miles enlisted Gumshoe's help when it grew late and it was time to head for home. Though Gumshoe had supplemented Miles's wine and the traditional sake Maya had gifted Phoenix with, bringing along a bottle of some cheap swill he'd bought at a liquor store on the way, the man was not unlike a tank. Phoenix was not particularly heavy, Miles had to admit - but when he was mildly unsteady himself, and Phoenix couldn't even manage to stand up on his own, Gumshoe's continued steadiness and greater strength was useful.

Miles did _not_ get drunk. Phoenix most certainly had. There was the option of calling him a cab, and in fact it was the only option any of them had. Miles wouldn't have trusted any of them to drive even Gumshoe's beat-up old sedan, let alone his own car. A cab it was, then. He and Gumshoe managed to get Phoenix over to the sidewalk in front of the park, carrying him more than assisting him, and practically loading him into the back seat like baggage when their ride arrived. 

"Mebbe we should stick him in the trunk, sir!" Gumshoe chuckled, as they tried to find enough room for all six of their legs inside the car. This should not have been nearly as difficult a task as it seemed, but Phoenix's didn't seem to want to stay in front of him.

"O... objection?" Phoenix giggled, sliding down until he was practically lying across their laps.

The driver looked to Miles, who was clearly the most coherent of his three passengers. Or perhaps just the least _in_ coherent. "Where to?"

Out of habit, Miles recited his address. It wasn't until the doors were closed and they were halfway to his high-rise apartment that he realized, amidst Gumshoe's uproarious laughter at Phoenix's drunken giggles, that going to his place first meant sticking Gumshoe or Phoenix with the final tally on the cab's meter. He wouldn't do that to Phoenix, the man had enough trouble making ends meet, and Miles wasn't sure he should let Phoenix spend the night alone in this condition anyhow. Even if he could get all the way up the stairs, he'd certainly be miserable in the morning. And as for Gumshoe, knowing the likely state of his wallet...

So it was a perfectly sober, rational decision when Miles invited both of them to spend the night at his apartment. It was large. There was room. There was a perfectly good reason for them to stay.

Also, Gumshoe was quite useful when it came to getting Phoenix out of the back seat and up the steps to the building as Miles paused to pay the fare - after some awkward flailing and lurching about, he simply slung Phoenix over his shoulder despite the protests, whistling. Miles gave the driver a substantial tip for putting up with his drunken friends. See? Miles _didn't_ get drunk.

Miles honestly would have been happy to invite Phoenix to stay the night anyhow. He did it fairly regularly. Therefore, it wasn't until Gumshoe cheerfully asked "Where should I put this guy, Mr. Edgeworth sir?" that Miles realized he had made a slight logistical error.

He thought it over as Gumshoe stood there grinning, a red-faced defense attorney muttering over his shoulder about how this was reeeaaaally making his head feel funny, and came to the conclusion that he only had one option. "Put him on the couch. I'll go get some spare blankets and a pillow."

"Will do!"

It wasn't how Miles would have had it, but he couldn't very well have Gumshoe bring Phoenix to his bed, could he? At least, not if he was intending to sleep there too. And he was, as soon as he was sure that these two drunken buffoons were settled in.

But that left another question, as he knelt by Phoenix's waist to get his belt off, and Gumshoe knelt by Phoenix's feet to get his shoes off. "And where would you like to put me, sir?"

...Such a large man as Gumshoe could hardly fit on the matching loveseat that was the largest unoccupied piece of living room furniture, and Miles didn't have a guest room. Why would he, when he never had guests?

He glanced around, and Gumshoe followed his glance, apparently following his line of thinking as well. "It's all right, sir - I'll sleep on the floor here, or in the recliner!" he declared, the foolish grin undimmed. "I can sleep anywhere. I mean, I've even slept slumped over on my desk at the station in the middle of a busy day!"

"The chief _did_ mention that, yes," Miles muttered. On the other hand, he did appreciate Gumshoe's help with Phoenix, and felt slightly guilty at the thought of leaving him to sleep on the floor or in a chair. "...Why don't you take my bed for the night? I'll use the recliner myself."

Gumshoe's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously, Mr. Edgeworth? _Seriously?_ Your bed? I... No, no, I can't do that, sir," he mumbled, his enthusiasm deflating suddenly. "I can't kick you out of your own bed..."

"It's perfectly fine," Miles told him. "I've fallen asleep in that recliner before - it's not uncomfortable."

"But it's your apartment," Gumshoe protested. "Really, I don't deserve the bed."

Miles sighed and rubbed his forehead between his eyes. "If you insist," he said, just to have it finalized. His head was starting to feel the effects of the wine. Not that he was drunk, of course, because he never got drunk.

His head throbbed further as Gumshoe stood up and whooped. "Yeah! I got Mr. Edgeworth's chair for the night!"

Phoenix cracked up from his position on the couch, and fumbled at Miles's hands as they finished pulling off his belt and began unfastening his jacket. "Mmmmiles? We're, uh, not alone," he finished with another giggle.

"No, we're not," Miles said patiently. "Detective Gumshoe is staying the night."

"Ohhhhh." Apparently, he'd forgotten. "...I thought you didn't want him to know."

"Know what?"

Just after he'd said it, Miles realized what Phoenix was talking about, but it was too late.

"That we're sleeping together."

Miles's hands froze on the lapels of Phoenix's shirt. Warily, he glanced over his shoulder. Gumshoe was too busy admiring his hard-won chair to have heard, it seemed. "...I don't," he stated.

Phoenix fixed him with a foolish, lazy grin. "Then why are you undressing me in front of him?"

"I'm not undressing...!" Miles began, startled, but he stopped short when Gumshoe turned, looking at them in bewilderment. "We're _making you comfortable_ ," he explained, more patiently. "I'm simply loosening your clothes, Wright. That is all."

"Ohhhhh, okay."

Gumshoe laughed. "He's pretty far gone, huh, sir?"

"Quite." Miles left it at that, and tugged Phoenix's shirt open a little. His face certainly was red. And his eyes certainly were blue. And staring at him. "...Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Looking at me."

Phoenix's smile quirked oddly. "But I _like_ looking at you."

Miles decided that he'd better not give Phoenix any more rope to hang _both of them_ with, and said nothing, retreating to the closet to get another blanket and pillow for Gumshoe and the recliner.

Once he was sure that Gumshoe was as comfortable as he was going to be (he was at least capable enough to take his own belt and tie and shoes off, thank goodness), Miles started to shrug off his own jacket on the way to the light switch. "Hey - aren't you forgetting something?" Phoenix called, as darkness fell over the room.

Miles paused and looked back, the jacket hanging off one arm, and he reached up to start on the cravat. He couldn't think of anything he was forgetting, but he _was_ reminded. "Sleep on your stomach, Wright. Though I'd prefer not to have the furniture ruined if you wind up sick in your sleep, it's better than you choking to death."

"Aw..." Phoenix sounded disappointed as Miles went to flip on the bathroom light, just so it wouldn't be pitch-black for them. "That's not what I meant..."

Miles tossed his jacket and cravat into his room - he'd pick it up later - and glanced back, working on the buttons of his vest. "What did you mean, then?"

He should have known better than to ask - Phoenix was giggling again. "You forgot my goodnight kiss."

"...Damn it, Wright," Miles muttered. Fortunately, Gumshoe looked like he was taking it as a joke, from the bemused look on his face. "Go to sleep," he instructed Phoenix, as he started back down the hallway towards his room.

"Uh huh," Phoenix mumbled. "Miles?"

"Yes?"

There was no giggling this time. "Love you."

Miles froze, cringing. "Damn it, Wright! Just go to sleep." Maybe Gumshoe would continue to assume it was a joke. And perhaps they'd be lucky and none of them would remember much of this in the morning. He was fairly sure that Phoenix, at least, would retain little memory of the night.

At first, he intended to leave his bedroom door open. Just in case they needed him for anything, and so that he could hear if anything unusual happened. But then, he could hear Phoenix's giggling even through the closed door as he changed, and a louder, deeper exclamation of "WHAAAAT?!" 

Miles gritted his teeth, and headed back to the living room once he was fully covered. "Will you two _please_ keep the noise to a minimum?" he requested.

"Ohhh, uh. Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth," Gumshoe said.

"Yeah. Sorry," Phoenix chimed in.

Neither of them looked particularly tired. Miles had a feeling this was going to be a long night, but headed back to the bedroom regardless.

There were no more outbursts, aside from another brief fit of giggling from Phoenix, but Miles could still hear them talking quietly with his door open. They were both grown men, he decided, and wouldn't need his help; he got up one last time to turn off the light, and close the door after all. He could still vaguely hear a few murmurs, but they seemed distant and inconsequential as Miles rolled over and closed his eyes. He just hoped that whatever they were talking about, it did not involve him.

His eyes opened again with a start when his door came crashing open.

"Oops, sir," came a sheepish Gumshoe chuckle, and Miles looked up from his current position splayed in terror across the queen-size bed to see the detective standing in his doorway, one arm supporting Phoenix. "Sorry - didn't mean to scare you like that. It was kind of hard to get the door open slowly, with this guy weighing me down."

"...Is he all right?" Miles asked, suddenly a little more wary than irritated. Phoenix looked rather limp. Though the grin on Gumshoe's face didn't seem to imply anything was wrong. Rather the opposite.

"Uh huh... 'M good," Phoenix mumbled. "Reeeeal good."

"We were just talking, and you know," Gumshoe explained, "I thought it was a real shame he had to sleep on the couch. Considerin'. Y'know."

"...I _don't_ know," Miles admitted, sitting up a little straighter, leaning back on his hands. "Why is it a shame, Detective?"

"Aw, Mr. Edgeworth..." Gumshoe's grin faded into that kicked-puppy-dog look of his. "You didn't really think I'd think any less of you if I knew you liked to have sex with other men, did you?"

"That wasn't why I..." Miles felt his blood run cold suddenly. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, it's not such a weird thing. Isn't it like one in ten guys in the US? Or one in a hundred, or something? Oh, I dunno..."

"I... I'm not aware of the latest statistics." Miles should _never_ have left the two of them alone, he realized. At least Gumshoe didn't seem to be taking it as much of a shock. "Since we have breached the topic," he said firmly, "I would appreciate discretion about this matter on the job."

"Oh yeah - no problem. I can do discretion, sure thing," Gumshoe assured him.

"Very good." Miles was somewhat skeptical, but he had to give Gumshoe the benefit of the doubt now, didn't he? "My sexuality relates to exactly one person, you realize."

"Nuh uh...!" Phoenix raised a finger vaguely, though his head still drooped forward listlessly. "It relates to whoever you're sleeping with, too."

"To be honest," Gumshoe admitted, "I had my suspicions about the two of you. And hey, it's okay by me - you make a cute pair."

"Very well, myself and _one other_ ," Miles amended impatiently. He was still extremely sleepy, though being startled wide awake had at least given him a rush of adrenaline, and whatever Gumshoe was here to do...

Phoenix interrupted his thoughts with another chuckle. "...More'n you think."

"The two of us," Miles repeated. "None other. If you say a word of this to _anyone_ at the precinct, Detective, even your instant noodles will become a rare and savory treat."

"You got it, sir," Gumshoe agreed, and stepped forward, steadying Phoenix's uneven steps. "So anyway, like I told Mr. Wright here, it's fine by me - I'm not meaning to get in your way, and I don't mind if he shares a bed with you tonight."

"Yup," Phoenix agreed vaguely, tightening his arm around Gumshoe companionably. "S'a good guy, D'ective Gumshoe... said he'd gimme a hand..."

"Well, thank you." Miles managed to sound somewhat less irritated, and shifted to his knees, offering his arm to help Phoenix down onto the bed with him. He looked up at Gumshoe as Phoenix flopped against him. "And I suppose that means you get the couch?" If Gumshoe was getting something out of it, that would make it make sense.

Gumshoe shook his head proudly. "Actually, sir, we got a better idea."

Two drunken buffoons having a brainstorm. Miles was certain this was not a 'better' idea, and that it was in fact probably a 'bad' idea, but he asked anyway. "And what was this idea?"

"I said," Phoenix mumbled against Miles's chest where he'd fallen, "that if he helped me get to your room... nice D'ec'ive Gumshoe... he's a good guy... always helps out..."

"Yeah, Mr. Wright's not a bad guy," Gumshoe agreed. "Too bad we're on opposite sides and everything. Kinda like Romeo and Juliet..."

"...Who's Romeo?" Phoenix asked, confused.

Gumshoe shrugged. "I dunno, pal - who's Juliet?"

This was absurd. Trying to get Phoenix laid out properly on the bed, Miles suddenly felt the bed shudder anew, and looked up to see Gumshoe sitting down on the other side. And then, to his overwhelming surprise, Gumshoe started unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, nonchalant. " _Excuse me?_ " Miles began. "What are you doing, Detective?"

"Mr. Wright said that if I gave him a hand, helped him get in here," Gumshoe beamed, "he'd let me join you!"

"What?!" Miles exclaimed. His attempt to draw back was foiled by the fact that he had a drunken defense attorney draped over him, now sliding a hand inside his pajama top in a very unsubtle way - and though Wright wasn't that heavy, he was still a lot of dead weight at the moment. Before Miles could tell him to cut it out, Gumshoe was sliding up next to him, tossing his shirt aside and nuzzling at his ear...

"Detective-" Miles couldn't back away from that nuzzling now, with Phoenix nuzzling at his other ear. "I, er... was not aware that you, er..."

"Honest, sir, I've never thought about another guy like this," Gumshoe mumbled, his five-o'-clock shadow scratching Miles's shoulder and cheek. "JUst... something about _you_ , I guess. Got me kind of curious."

"Hey, I'm 'ere too," Phoenix reminded him, tugging Miles's pajama top towards him to expose Miles's shoulder and nibble at his collarbone.

"Oh yeah... Mr. Wright's okay too," Gumshoe added.

Miles felt another hand slip inside his pajama top, this time on his back. It was big and broad and warm - just like the man himself. It _was_ , Miles had to admit, intriguing to think about those hands all over him, so different from Phoenix's softer hands. Speaking of hands, he had no idea what to do with his own hands, except that the one at the end of the arm supporting Phoenix was probably just fine. "...I never agreed to this," he felt compelled to point out.

"D'you wan' us to stop?" Phoenix mumbled, as the hand inside Miles's shirt slid up over his chest, then withdrew. "We'll stop if y'want..."

Miles was sure that he shouldn't have to think about this. He wouldn't even have been letting Phoenix behave this way if Gumshoe was simply in the next room, let alone in the same room, and despite all the time that he and the detective had spent together, it had _never_ crossed his mind to...

...Well, okay, once when he'd just become a prosecutor, when he was still young and his body was quicker to react - he'd been working with the man on some case or another, and it had occurred to him that a man built like that could pound him into a mattress quite effectively. Once or twice, he'd had thoughts like that. Maybe three or four times. But...

Gumshoe's low groan in his ear and another drunken giggle from Phoenix broke his train of thought. " _Wow_ \- you really _do_ like this, huh, Miles?"

"Heh," Gumshoe replied sheepishly. "That's, uh, me."

A moment of silence while Phoenix's arm shifted across Miles's lap. "Oh yeah, it is. Hey, that's pretty... uh, impressive."

Miles was suddenly very, very curious. "...I suppose," he stated, "that as we're all consenting adults, this is, er..." He was having a hard time concentrating, because Gumshoe's hand seemed to be seeking what Phoenix _thought_ he had found. Big and warm and strong - _yes_.

"Is it all right, sir?" Gumshoe asked, a hint of hesitance in the question.

Miles was tempted to tell Gumshoe that he didn't have to call him 'sir' while they were doing something like this... but if he were being honest with himself, he kind of liked it. "It's... yes, it's all right," he replied, and drew in a deep breath when the answer encouraged Gumshoe enough to actually grope him through his pajamas.

None of them had ever been with multiple partners at once before, so it took some trial and error, and a bit of questioning from Miles about what everyone was comfortable with, before they managed to settle into a configuration that worked for everyone at the moment. In Phoenix's case, though, it wasn't merely a question of what he was comfortable with - Miles knew that he was adventurous in general, and willing to try just about anything (though he admittedly hadn't expected Phoenix to be willing to try _this_ ), but in his current condition, he had no stability to be on top of anyone, and no finesse. Miles had to strongly warn him _twice_ about the fact that he had _teeth_ before they decided _that_ wasn't going to work.

Somewhere along the line, Gumshoe had moved behind Miles, supporting him as Phoenix tried to figure out what he was capable of at the moment, and it was nice, leaning back against that steady warmth. Growing all the more aware of Gumshoe's body as his rear pressed back, rubbing against an obvious erection and making the detective utter soft grunts and moans with each movement of his hips, Miles decided that he didn't care if Gumshoe was inexperienced with other men. He'd been with women, and he had some idea how to do _that_ , so... "Detective?"

" _Uhn_ , yessir?"

"Phoenix is going to spread his legs," Miles stated, smirking a little as he looked down at suddenly wide blue eyes. "I am going to be between them. You take your underwear off, and when I've gotten what we need, you will kneel behind me. You will be _careful_ and _very slow_ , until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

Stunned silence followed, and then a laugh of such glee that one would have thought the man had just gotten a _raise_ for once. "Yes, _sir!_ "

The condoms and lube were in the drawer of the nightstand, and Miles didn't bother keeping things neat and tidy; they'd been at this for too long already, feeling their way through how this was going to work, and Phoenix was already moaning like he was near orgasm just from teasing and anticipation. He simply prepared himself, then handed the bottle and another condom behind him to Gumshoe. "Make certain that you are very, very slippery."

Gumshoe nodded, almost looking a little shaky, and Miles dared to look down. ...The man really was big and broad _everywhere_ , he realized. Though Miles didn't normally need much preparation, he rose up on his knees for a moment, sliding two slippery fingers into himself, and then, to Phoenix's apparent delight, adding a third. Once he was sure he was properly stretched, he gave Gumshoe's erect penis an experimental stroke (and _oh_ , the sound he made - there was something to be said for such unconditional masculinity) and turned to face Phoenix. Gumshoe's hands came to rest on his shoulders as he settled down and started to ease himself in, feeling Phoenix's body tighten around him deliciously. Phoenix tossed his head, panting, and Miles wondered if Gumshoe was enjoying the view from over his shoulder as much as he was.

Once he was sure that he and Phoenix had found the right position, the right angle, Miles glanced back at a wide-eyed Gumshoe and told him to go ahead - slowly. It was going to take some adjustment, a phallus that large (not that Miles was going to say that part aloud) - and sure enough, he found himself wincing. But Gumshoe followed his instructions to the letter, slow and careful as Miles's body stretched with the movement, and then they could move together.

And _that_ , Miles found, was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Penetrating, while being penetrated at the same time, stimulation both from the front and behind - once Gumshoe found just the right way to thrust, Miles found himself nearly overwhelmed.

Gumshoe, as Miles might have predicted if he'd ever thought about it, was on the vocal side, his mutters and exclamations nearly a constant - more so than Phoenix even when he was sober. Drunk as he was, Phoenix was more or less incoherent in his murmurings, though perhaps a little louder than usual thanks to the lowered inhibitions. Next to the two of them (or rather, between), Miles was encouraged himself to be a little louder, a little rougher as the energy built.

Gumshoe was the first one - "Ah, unh, sir, this is so, aaah, Mr. Edgeworth sir, I'm-" and Miles could imagine; he suspected it was generally tighter with a man than a woman, even when one wasn't so large as Gumshoe. There was one last thrust, Gumshoe's arms going around him to hold him close, and Miles almost came right then too.

He could have, but Phoenix was having trouble - he was almost too drunk to even maintain an erection, even under these circumstances. Miles kept working at it, and then got a pleasant surprise when those big strong hands he'd been admiring earlier reached around him, slipping down his stomach to find and stroke Phoenix firmly. Phoenix let out a shout, and Miles almost found himself jealous, given the blissful look on Phoenix's face, but he couldn't feel jealous for long, because seeing Phoenix writhe like that was the final push he needed.

Gumshoe kept up the fondling and stroking as Miles rode out his orgasm, and not long after, Phoenix let out a little cry and followed. Once his back was no longer arched, and he'd fallen back against the pillows, Miles let himself collapse over Phoenix, as he often did. The warmth of Gumshoe settling himself at their side with a contented chuckle, one arm draped over Miles's back, was a welcome addition.

Belatedly, it occurred to him just what they had done, and his mind boggled at it. An unexpected, unintended menage-a-trois. With a co-worker. He simply didn't do things like that. Not even when drunk.

... _Was_ he drunk?

And that revelation was almost as disturbing as the first: He'd been near sober for all of this - he'd been thinking logically through all of it, working out the logistics with a clear head. He couldn't blame this on drunkenness, and no surprise - because Miles Edgeworth did not get 'drunk'.

...Well then, he thought with a little smirk, closing his eyes and sighing tiredly - that simply meant that when the other two people in his bed sobered up, he could put forth a well-reasoned argument as to why they might do this again.


End file.
